“Bah.” She waved me off and stopped at a bin with discounted dates. I fucking hated those. The seeds always got stuck in my teeth. “Maybe you’re a bit spoiled too,” she grumbled. “You have your health. Your dream job—your students love you. You have your family—and friends too. A nice home. It all comes down to sharing your life with someone? I know it’s the ultimate gift, believe me, but if you can’t see the gifts you’ve already been given, maybe you’re not ready for more.”

Her words were delivered like a brick to my face. I wasn’t as devoted to church as my grandmother, so I’d never been a fan of the use of “gifts.” My job wasn’t a gift. It was something I’d worked my ass off to achieve. I’d built it with my bare hands. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a valid point. I was being ungrateful.

Had I been ten years younger, I wouldn’t feel so impatient either. As if I were reaching my expiration date, I felt this urgency to find someone quickly so I could experience something before it was too late. That was no way to live.

“You’re a smart cookie, Nonna.”

“I keep tellin’ everyone!” She waved her fist at me.

I grinned.

Amusement seeped into her gaze, and she gestured toward the registers. “You go back to work, polpetto. I don’t think I need your help with the rest. Your father’s picking me up.”

“You sure?” If he was picking her up, it meant she was going to the salon. Otherwise, she usually took the bus—with or without Nicky. It was his thing to meet up with her at Sahadi’s once a week.

“I am sure. Go.” She nodded and placed two containers of dates in her cart. “You need your music, Anthony. It always guides you.”

I knew what she meant. I made my best decisions when I was surrounded by music because it cleared my head. Another trait I’d inherited from Nonna. She’d once been a singer. I’d seen old tapes.

I dipped down and kissed her cheek, promising I’d see her for dinner on Sunday, and then I made my way toward the exit.

Music worked.

Music always worked.

Travel jitters had set in by the time I had my next class with James the following week, but his playing helped. It was just the two of us in one of the rehearsal studios—the two of us, two grand pianos, and two spotlights.

“Für Elise” had once been James’s biggest goal to master. These days, it was his preferred piece to use for warm-up and to wind down. This was the winding down part.

We played together, and after running through the piece a few times, we were in perfect sync.